


the hunger of those early years

by worry



Category: Ava's Demon
Genre: I'm sorry Odin, Love Triangles, M/M, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-07 13:58:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10361997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worry/pseuds/worry
Summary: Olai next to Gil in the kitchen, all alone together,together. It shouldn't feel so disgusting. They could be happy together. It's not like Odin wants him, it's not like Odin desires Gil in any way beyond whatever they have, reluctant friendship. It's not like Odin dreams about him. If he did, it would be a different story, a different tale. But he doesn't, despises Gil and despises Olai's nerve. He shouldn't care. He shouldn't care. He shouldn't.It feels wrong.(Or: Odin doesn't realize his feelings for Gil until it's too late.)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [projectfreelancer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/projectfreelancer/gifts).



> For Lux, because this was their idea and it is an AMAZING idea.

 

Gil stares into the heart of Odin's planet, into the very core of it, and says, with uncertainty, "This is nice."

 

They're watching it from the atmosphere; for Odin it is home, the only home he has ever known, the kind of home not made of blue flesh, and returning to it leaves a bitter, copper taste in his mouth. He completed his mission, he found Maggie Lacivi  _and_ Ava Ire, two birds with one stone, but: sharing it with Gil, who he can barely be around without feeling sick-frozen, seems strangely too intimate. 

 

However, for Gil, he knows, it is a simple reminder of everything that he lost when Titan's influence faded, disintegrated inside of him. It is a reminder of the day he left his future on a spaceship and watched it burn around him. A sick, sick reminder. Odin nearly pities him, would fully  _feel_ for him if Gil wasn't Gil and they were in a universe where they meet here, on Odin's planet, and start off beautifully. Maybe in this universe, Odin would like him. Maybe in this universe, Odin wouldn't be so - frozen.

 

This is not that universe and Odin half-pities him. He takes hold of the ship controls, runs his fingers over the plastic. "You're a t—terrible liar," he says, and lands the ship.

 

* * *

 

Raven and Crow are waiting for him when they land, somehow managing to sneak behind the ship as it lowered to the ground, snakelike, animal-fast. Crow has a gun to his back, and Raven's is pointed at Gil's head; they would never do anything to Gil, he knows, Gil doesn't matter to them in the end, Gil is  _nothing_ to them, and Odin is a different kind of nothing. Odin is useful, Gil is not. Two twelve year-old girls have guns in their hands and Odin thinks, silently,  _how did we end up like this? Before—_

 

There is no "before".

 

"Forgot you picked your boyfriend up when you were on that mission," says Raven with her curled smile, and Odin looks over at Gil, watches him stop — for one moment, mechanical — and blink, look up to the sky like it will save him again.

 

It almost feels  _wrong,_ saying, "He's not my b—boyfriend, and you know th—that."

 

Gil's fingers start fidgeting at his sides, his breathing increases to a fast, uncomfortable pace. Odin half-pities him, sick-frozen. It is not a full pity. Gil is simply uncomfortable; who  _would_ be comfortable when held at gunpoint by a child making disgusting assumptions about you? He is uncomfortable, and there's not—there's  _nothing_ here.

 

His mouth opens; it looks as if he's about to say something -  _sorry, Odin is right, that would be weird -_ but Crow, from behind him, laughs in an interruption that Odin is thankful for. "Okay, well, whatever," she says. "Olai wants to see you guys now." She looks at Gil, who looks at her in return; a damaged look, a broken look, a shattered look. Odin understands this look. It means:  _I have nothing left to lose._ "I think you'll like him," she whispers. "He talks about you a lot, it's kind of annoying."

 

"He... talks about me?" Gil asks. "But he's never met me."

 

"Odin told him about you," Crow says. "And now he's talking about how much he wants to meet you, 'cause apparently Odin actually said normal,  _nice_ stuff about another person for once in his life."

 

Odin rolls his eyes. "I say n—nice stuff about other people  _all_ the t—time."

 

"Uh-huh, sure," says Raven, gun still pointed at Gil's head in determination. "Yeah, we believe that."

 

Crow sighs at this. "Raven -"

 

"Yeah, Crow?"

 

"Let's just get them to Olai, okay?"

 

She pouts for a moment, but nods an  _okay._ Crow pushes the gun deeper into his back, and they're walking.

 

* * *

 

 

When Crow and Raven push them into the room (door locking, leaving them both in a black room so  _close_ to each other and Odin can feel Gil brush against him accidentally—) it is completely dark, no light peeking through, just the way his brother likes it. Odin can hear Gil's breathing again, fast and sharp. He almost wants to—

 

"Odin," Gil whispers. "I don't think he's here, and I—"

 

"He's here," Odin whispers back, sharper than Gil's breaths. "T—Trust me."

 

"But I... I don't, um. I don't — well. I'm..."

 

"Wh—what is it?"

 

"I don't like darkness," he says, quick and shaky. "Odin, I'm very uncomfortable."

 

"Well, we can tr—try to find—"

 

" _Odin,_ " says a voice, distant, Olai's deep and scratchy voice, " _you should have told me he was afraid of the dark._ " A cough. "Now I look rude."

 

The lights (dimly lit; they have been dying for  _years_ with no one taking the time to fix them, certainly not Olai because he never gets his hands dirty) flicker on slowly. Olai is sitting on the floor at the very end of the room - he looks different than the last time Odin saw him, wearing a new jacket and new trophies around his shoulders ( _where are those from?_ ). His hair has been cut above shoulder-length and colored darker, and - he's staring not at Odin, but at Gil, with a smile on his face, a _disgusting_ smile. This is Olai's intrigued smile, the smile of a predator.

 

"Hey, you must be Gil, right?" he asks, pushing himself off of the floor and meeting Gil's eyes, so _close_ to him, predator-close. He takes Gil's hand and shakes it, and Gil's face -  _God -_ Gil's face turns dark blue, flustered.

 

Gil can only nod in response; his hand lingers on Olai's, fingers touching and pulling apart gently. Oh  _no._

 

"Well," Olai says, glancing at Odin, "I've heard a lot about you. My brother tells me you're a doctor, right?"

 

"Yes, I am, sort of..."

 

"I heard that medical training takes quite a long time to complete. You must be really smart, huh? You know, most girls find intelligence to be pretty sexy. You must have half of the universe falling for you, hm?"

 

Gil's eyelids flutter, he looks away - what the  _hell_ is Olai doing? Olai can't flirt with Gil, he just - he  _can't,_ that's not right, makes Odin feel even more sick-frozen, tiny, frail. Olai cannot have Gil. He can't. Odin doesn't  _want_ Gil, not in that way,  _sick,_ but he deserves someone better than Olai, someone who will  _truly_ love him. Olai Arrow isn't capable of love. There is an ulterior motive here.

 

"I didn't exactly finish my training," Gil says. "Something happened. And, um, I don't... I'm not interested in that sort of thing."

 

Olai stops for a moment, looks ridden with defeat and sadness,  _good,_ until it wipes away and leaves a brand new, laughing Olai, who has never felt disturbance in his life. He laughs, staring into Odin's eyes. Olai feeds on his anger. Olai feeds on discomfort. Olai  _feeds._

 

"I get it," he says. "You don't want to me tell me, a random stranger, about your dating experiences. I respect that. I just think it'd be  _crazy_ if you didn't, I mean... you're very handsome, surely you  _must_ have a girlfriend."

 

"I don't see how this is relevant?"

 

"He doesn't l—like girls, you idiot," Odin says. "Now. Wh—where are Maggie and Ava?"

 

"Don't worry," Olai tells him. "They're already on their way to find someone...  _useful..._ that can help them defeat Titan."

 

"Wait, they left the pl—planet?"

 

"Yep. Lent them a ship just a few hours ago."

 

"And you d—d—didn't  _tell us?"_

 

He cracks his knuckles, all-white. "I didn't think you'd care."

 

"What? Of c—course I — we — would care. Maggie and Ava are our f—friends, we were supposed to be doing this as a  _t—team._ "

 

Olai laughs, again. "Oh, come on, Odin. We both know you don't like working in teams. Besides, I need you and your doctor-ish friend to stay here for a while."

 

"Why?"

 

"Because," Olai says, patting him _hard_ on the shoulder and motioning towards Gil, who looks - _frozen_ , "I get lonely."

 

* * *

 

 "So," Gil says, resting his travel bag gently on the floor, "this is... where you sleep?"

 

The floorboards creak with their every step; Gil is standing, uncomfortable, stuck up against Odin's bedroom door. He looks -  _terrified._ Odin understands terrified, what it's like, especially when it's based around his family, his home, his life. No one would ever want this.

 

"D—don't say anything," Odin says. "I know it's not perfect... must be h—hard for you."

 

 "Excuse me?" Gil asks, but he only looks crushed instead of defensive, sadness like an ocean wave on his face, surrounding his body.

 

 "You know... back when you were a... c—crazy Titan follower... everything was p—perfect for you. It has to be hard seeing something d—different."

 

 "I... I don't like that implication," Gil replies, still crushed. "Besides, I like it here. I really do."

 

Odin sighs. "Yeah, okay." He points to his closet door, meets Gil's eyes. "There are s—some blankets and pillows and stuff i—in there. Unless you want to sleep on the fl—floor with nothing cushioning you, which would be fine with me."

 

Gil reaches out his hand, but stops; Odin can see his mind, into his thought process.  _Don't touch him. He will get angry._ "I'm not your enemy," he says finally. "You know that, right?"

 

He looks away. "I know."

 

Odin watches him retrieve the items with nausea boiling inside of him; _how,_ he thinks,  _did this happen? How did I get stuck with_  —  _with **him.**_ Gil is like Pedri, stuck to him through the death of beliefs. Gil as Pedri ruining him with one touch, one word, one (fast, sharp) breath. Gil as Pedri ruining him. Gil as Olai forcing him to stay on the planet, just to get Gil closer, just to get Pedri closer. Gil like the destruction of Odin's being. Gil like everything, and nothing.

 

How did Odin get stuck with  _him?_

 

Gil throws a comforter, blanket, and pillow onto the floor, sighs, breathes in. Then he gets on his knees, buries himself down underneath the blanket. It's a strange sight: Gil Marverde on his knees and then sinking to the ground, just below him, in front of Odin's bed, in front of  _Odin._

 

 

He turns the light off and ignores Gil's fears, climbs into his bed and ignores Gil's fears, pulls his blanket over his head and ignores Gil's fears. He feels - bad, about hurting Gil like this,  _he's never done anything wrong he likes Odin he's okay and maybe Odin is just afrai—_

 

 

**NO.**

 

 

Odin is not afraid of Gil. Only pities him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He's almost asleep when he hears a _soft, soft_ whisper: "Your brother seems nice."

 

Odin laughs and then covers his mouth;  _if he wakes up Raven and Crow across the hall he will die._ "You're joking," he says, quiet, mimicking Gil's softness. 

 

"I'm not," Gil says. "He was... interesting."

 

"He was h—hitting on you like a creep."

 

"No, he wasn't. Aren't you two friends?"

 

He folds his hand over his mouth to keep laughter from escaping again.  _Friends. Olai and Odin, friends. What a disgusting thought._

 

"N—Not exactly," Odin replies. "And yeah, he was. Why do you th—think he complimented you on your—" he does air quotes before realizing Gil can't see him,  _damn him_ "—intelligence. Why do you think he k—kept asking about a girlfriend? He was hitting on y—you."

 

"Oh," Gil says. " _Oh._ Okay..."

 

"You c—couldn't tell?"

 

"I just thought he was being nice."

 

His naivety is almost endearing -  _no. No it isn't. No. No. There is nothing endearing about Gil Marverde._

 

"He's not n—nice," Odin says. "Can I sleep now, pl—please?"

 

"Sorry," Gil says, and then the room is silent.

 

_Endearing._

 

* * *

 

Gil has his hands on Odin's shoulders. Gil has his hands on Odin's face, a hand behind his head, tangled in his hair. Gil has hands on Odin's hips, Gil has his hands digging into Odin's skin, Gil  _has his hand on Odin and_ they're just one being, now, composed of hands and breaths and  _hands._ Gil's hands becoming one with Odin's body, Odin crying for him ( _crying for Gil, how embarrassing_ ), Odin inside of Gil like praying in a church. Gil's hands as human sin. Gil's  _hands,_ a thing to stress here, because Odin did not know he was capable of being touched and thinking:  _good, this is where I'm supposed to be._

 

And he looks up and truly  _sees_ Gil, watches him writhe and move and breathe his name out;  _Odin; Odin; Odin; y e s._ He  _sees_ Gil in his entirety, and it is almost beautiful; he has been looking for something for eighteen years but never realized that his salvation is right here in this boy on top of him. And this might be all that he will ever need: Gil Marverde and his hands and thighs and touch. He sees Gil and sees a saving light.

 

Then he wakes up.

 

He wakes up and Gil is Gil again. He wakes up and—

 

He wakes up and Gil is above him, like in the - the  _dream._ He is saying Odin's name,  _Odin, Odin, Odin,_ but with a  _hey, wake up_ attached to the end, shattering all of the meaning out of it like a curbstomp. He has his hands (hands!) resting gently on Odin's shoulder. 

 

He wakes up and his head slams right into Gil's, it almost feels like—

 

Well. He wakes up and touches Gil and that is enough. It's dirty, it's disgusting, it is  _sin;_ he dreams about Gil and he wakes up to Gil and he is  _hard, hot,_ because of Gil's touch and the dream-feeling of Gil against him, around him. It is disgusting. If Gil moves in closer, he will lose control. Gil is — he's not — he's not something that Odin wants, which is why this is wrong, which is why Odin is losing his mind, which is why he's frozen, cold, underneath Gil again and thinking about impurity. To be impure implies that you have been pure at one point, or are capable of becoming so in the future; Odin is neither. Odin is simply vile.

 

"You were having a nightmare," Gil says. "You were screaming in your sleep. Are you alright?"

 

"It wasn't... I'm fine," he says, knows it's not convincing. "Please g—get off of me."

 

Gil sighs, goes back to his spot on the floor. Odin pulls the pillow out from behind him and rests it on his lap.  _Embarrassing._

 

"What were you dreaming about?" Gil asks, quickly adding: "If you don't mind me asking. It must have been pretty horrible from the way you were acting."

 

"Just Titan," Odin replies, lies tasting sharp in his mouth. "I'm worried for Maggie and Ava."

 

"They'll be fine," Gil tells him. "Ava has those vials."

 

"True..."

 

Silence as Odin's heart turns hummingbird fast, silence for too long; _the alternative here is Gil speaking, and Gil's cool voice will make things worse, Gil's voice will just remind him of how impure he is._

 

He thanks the Gods when, minutes later, minutes of Odin biting his lips, Gil slams his hands (hands _!_ ) down onto his legs, laughs uncomfortably. "Can you point me towards the bathroom?"

 

"Last door d—down the hall."

 

"Thank you."

 

Gil leaves and Odin exhales. Gil leaves and -

 

Gil leaves.

 

Odin silently apologizes to - fuck, whoever will listen, whoever can forgive him for what he's about to do. He slides out of his clothes, thinks about anything that is not Gil Marverde, anything that isn't Gil tight around him, fingers digging into his shoulders, neck bites. He doesn't think about Gil as he does this. A while ago, Gil might have called it something like "sin".

 

* * *

 

He hears Gil's laughter through the thin, thin walls, listens to the high sound of it. Gil hasn't laughed like this in a very long time. Or - _no_. Wait. Odin has never even _heard_ Gil laugh _._

 

He has never laughed in Odin's presence, he has never  _laughed_ once in the entire time Odin has known him, and now he's laughing like bird-song. It's annoying. Odin wants to rip the laugh out of him. Why is he even -

 

"Your laugh is so pretty."

 

 _Olai's_ voice, loud. Olai telling Gil that his laugh is pretty,  _beautiful._ Olai next to Gil in the kitchen, all alone together, _together_.  _It shouldn't feel so disgusting. They could be happy together. It's not like Odin wants him, it's not like Odin desires Gil in any way beyond whatever they have, reluctant friendship. It's not like Odin dreams about him. If he did, it would be a different story, a different tale. But he doesn't, despises Gil and despises Olai's nerve. He shouldn't care. He shouldn't care. He shouldn't._

 

_It feels wrong._

 

So he makes his way to the kitchen, armed with bitter words poking at his mouth, desperate to leave.  _Leave him alone. You monster, you demon. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it._

 

And Gil's laughter stops at the sight of him, the color on his face deepens.  _Embarrassment,_ sick embarrassment. Why is Gil scared? Is Odin that terrible?

 

"Hey, brother," says Olai, and he's in front of Gil, and their arms are brushing against each other, and Odin feels sick, wants to die. "How are you this morning?"

 

"Fine," Odin replies. "Wh—what are you guys doing, anyway?"

 

Olai smirks. Odin wants to kill him. "Looks like you're a little bit late," Olai says. "We just finished eating breakfast. Did you know Gil is a  _wonderful_ cook? He's a wonderful everything, actually."

 

"I'm not," Gil says quietly, looking away from them. "But - thank you."

 

"Sure you are," Olai responds. He turns to Odin, knowing smile still on his face, Odin still wanting to kill him. "Don't worry, though. There's a little bit left for you in the fridge."

 

"Yeah, th—thanks," Odin says. "Gil, I'm going to... tr—try and figure out a way to hail Maggie and Ava's sh—ship and check in with them, if you want to come."

 

Gil stares at Olai for a moment, disgusting longing frozen on his face. "Of course," he says, and his eyes shift up to Odin, right into _Odin's_ eyes,  _Odin's_ being. "I miss them."

 

He can hear Olai growl for a moment, and then Olai pats Gil on the back with a  _have fun_ and - and - and Gil winces, eyes closing shut like a cold body, like a frozen body.

 

(He moans, and Odin thinks—)

 

"Hey, you alright?" Olai asks, and places his hand again on Gil's lower back, gentler, softer. 

 

"Yes, I'm okay," Gil replies. "My back hurts a little bit, but it's only from sleeping on the floor, I'll be fine."

 

Olai fake-gasps. "Odin, you make him sleep on the floor?"

 

"Well, y—yeah, I mean, having him sleep in my bed would be we—weird, and—"

 

"You're terrible," Olai says. "Gil, if you want, you can sleep in my bed and I'll take the floor. I'm used to sleeping on hard surfaces, so it won't be a problem for me."

 

"Oh," Gil says, looking down at Olai's arm, "thank you, but I - I don't want to bother you..."

 

"You can, um," Odin says, swallowing his pride like swallowing a blade, "you can share my b—bed with me. If you want."

 

"I'll think about it."

 

"You do that," Olai says, winking at Odin, and Odin wants to kill him, wants to protect Gil from whatever Olai's ulterior motives are (because, again, Olai Arrow is not capable of love) and  _kill him._

 

"Okay, let's g—go."

 

He watches Gil smile at his brother, watches him take Olai's hand and intertwine their fingers, ultimately resting it at Olai's side. And then he approaches Odin, wipes his forehead, and they're off. Odin leads him to the backyard silently; the only thing on his mind is protection.

 

* * *

 

"Just d—don't touch anything," says Odin as he sits down at the console; one of their spare ships, less advanced but possessing the perfect technology for tracking. Every ship the Arrows have is equipped with a mandatory tracker - Odin isn't supposed to know about it but Raven's terrible at secrets - and every ship, if you push the right buttons, can track another.

 

"I  _am_ educated on the basics of ship operation, you know," Gil says proudly. "Despite how - well, you know, I did attend one of Titan's top boarding schools. They thought it was necessary for every student to know about these things."

 

"Still don't t—touch anything."

 

Gil nods and takes a seat at the console next to Odin's, keeping his hands folded in his lap as Odin types code words into the command. Olai jokingly programmed  _MAGPIE_ as the code which brings up the "secret operation" panels. **_Magpie_**. He thinks for a moment about his sister—

 

When Titan is defeated they are going to use Maggie and Ava to help her. Everything will be fine.

 

He shakes himself back into reality and continues on the keyboard.

 

"Hey, um, Odin?" asks Gil when he's halfway finished. "Can I... ask you something?"

 

"Make it q—quick," Odin responds absentmindedly. "I'm almost done."

 

"You said you and Olai 'aren't exactly friends'... why don't you two get along?"

 

Odin stops, shifts in his chair so that he's facing Gil, so  _close._ "Why do you want to kn—know?"

 

"Just curious, I guess."

 

He sighs, opens himself up. He is about to open up to Gil Marverde, of all people, because Gil Marverde is all that he has left. "It's j—just... he's always trying to steal everything good fr—from me, he's always tr—trying to take things I want, or things I have..."

 

The look on Gil's face changes,  _s i c k,_ unholy metamorphosis. Odin bites his tongue. He's made a mistake, he knows that he has made a mistake, he says the wrong words and he's too alluring and  _wrong and disgusting_ and now Gil thinks of him as a possibility, something that is capable of helping. Odin wants to crawl out of his body like waking up from eternal sleep like in a fairy tale, or falling into eternal sleep like in a fairy tale, or leaving this realm of existence like in a fairy tale. He's giving off the wrong idea by implying that Gil is something that Odin  _wants._ No.

 

**NO.**

 

Odin does not want him.

 

"I—I see," Gil says. "Sorry for interrupting you."

 

"It's fine, don't worry about it," he lies, and gets back to his work, buries himself alive in his work, maybe he will die and make things easier for the universe. Dying, like this, next to this boy, would be the worst way to go. Painful the entire time his consciousness fades and Gil  _screams—_

 

The code that opens communications is - ironically, bitterly -  _TITAN._

 

He hails them and rips every thought of Gil out of his mind. 

 

 

 

 

 

Ava's image appears static on the screen, her face so close to the camera that the background looks like it's transformed into rooms and walls made of dirty red hair. "Hey," she says. "Odin, is that you?"

 

Gil stands up and leans over Odin's chair, so close, so  _close._ "And Gil," he says, and Odin can feel Gil's warmth radiating into his body. "How are you both doing?"

 

Ava turns off-camera, yells something incomprehensible, and then their ship is filled with the loud, drowning noise of Maggie's sighs and footsteps. Ava backs away and - and Gil and Odin  _see_ : it looks like neither of them have slept, Ava's collar is caught behind her horns, and Maggie looks - green. Greener than usual, sick. Oh.  _God._

 

"Well," Maggie says, twirling her hair, "we're still floating around aimlessly in space, so that's a thing."

 

"How cl—close are you to new information?"

 

"I managed to get some coordinates out of Wrathia," Ava tells them. "Some educational planet that  _supposedly_ has books on Titan that  _supposedly_ will help us with our strategies."

 

"Which is great and all, but we can't figure out how to input those coordinates so we can actually  _go_ to that planet," Maggie says. "Your brother - Oleander, was it? - didn't teach us how to do that. Isn't he supposed to be, like, a super smart boss guy who knows everything? 'Cause he doesn't seem like that at all." ****

"It's Olai, and he  _is,_ " Gil says flatly, all cold, and Odin looks up at him,  _sick._ Gil is - sick. This is all so sick, every part of the four of them is sick. He remains fixed on Gil's neck for - a minute, too long, Maggie and Ava will get  _ideas_ if he continues like this,  _oh God -_ until he forces himself back to the screen. Gil likes Olai, idealizes him,  _so what._

 

"I th— _think_ I can take temporary control of your vessel and p—put the coordinates in from here," Odin says.

 

"We'd _really_ like that," Ava says back. "I want to get back as soon as possible. I... miss being together with you guys." A pause. "And, uh, you know, solid ground and fresh air and that stuff."

 

Odin laughs. "Okay, h—hold on."

 

He switches off the screen, inputs the coordinates, and Gil never breaks his hover around Odin. He stays. They stay. It's  _balanced._

 

( _It's Olai,_ Odin thinks as he exits the ship, his own mind revolting him,  _and he **is.**_ )

 

(So what?)

 

* * *

 

 

"So," Gil says, poking his head into Odin's bedroom, "you said I could, um... sleep... here? With you?"

 

"Yeah, I g—guess."

 

Gil walks in but remains stuck to Odin's door - like their first night here, like their first night  _together_ in Odin's home. He just watches Odin move around his bed, push himself up against the wall. He watches Odin with -  _Gods -_ l o n g i n g on his face, like he's  _scared_ of Odin, like sleeping next to Odin will ruin him. Odin ruins, this is a fact. We all know that Odin ruins; he is right in his fear.

 

"Come on," Odin says. "I d—don't bite. Do you think we'll end up sp—spooning or something? Is that what you're af—afraid of?"

 

Gil backs away. "No, I'm not -  _afraid._ It's just that I've never... I spent seven years in bunk beds, Odin, and eight years sleeping all by myself. I'm just nervous."

 

"Shit," Odin breathes. "I—I—I didn't mean it like that."

 

"I know you didn't," Gil says, sitting down on Odin's bed, so  _close, so **close.**_

 

"Yeah, let's j—just go to sleep."

 

"Sure," Gil says, but he doesn't turn out the light, doesn't take his shoes off, doesn't do anything but stretch out on Odin's bed and - and this is it, Odin thinks, this is it, where he dies and his life ends. He's sleeping next to Gil except-not-and Gil is moving closer to him -  _oh God - close - close - close_

 

and then Gil is kissing him. Gil is kissing him and Odin's life is over, Gil is against him, Gil's hands are on his face and they're so  _warm - close - close - close._

 

And, because his life is over, Odin pushes him away. This isn't - he doesn't want this. Dreaming and  _wanting_ are two different things, two different monsters.

 

There's a tear running down Gil's sea-sweet face. "But," he says, wiping his eyes, "I - I thought that you - that - that you..."

 

"I don't, I'm sorry, I don't," he says, and his stutter is gone; he's not sure if it's the truth, it has to be the truth, the truth is just something that you can kill with your hands, that Gil can ruin with his hands. "Pl—pl—please just go."

 

"Odin—"

 

"Gil,  _please._ "

 

Gil runs out of his room and Odin touches his lips, softly, feels every part of his skin that Gil's ghost touched. It's the truth.

 

* * *

 

 It's three in the morning when - Pedri, fucking  _Pedri -_ shakes him awake. It has been a while since Pedri last bothered him; he does not, usually, interact with Odin now that he's found his wife, and Odin has been away from Ava for a few days, which made him almost fade away, almost  _leave._

 

Almost.

 

 _God_.

 

"Boy," he says. "I can sense your hunger."

 

"Th—that's because I haven't eaten in hours," Odin replies, slurred. "I'm  _t—tired._ You can bug me in the morning."

 

"Not that kind of hunger," Pedri tells him, and Odin's heart turns fast again, fast and slow, like eyes fluttering closed-and-open full of pleasure. "You lust for him."

 

Odin is silent, thinks only of Gil and his fucking  _hands._ Wishes he could will Pedri away like in the stories, like Pedri will disappear from his mind if he just  _wants_ hard enough.

 

"No. It is more than that, isn't it? You  _love_ him. I was unaware you were capable of it."

 

Odin shoots up in his bed, faces Pedri and grabs him by his mask. "I do _not_ love Gil, okay? I don't even like him."

 

"Is that what you truly believe?"

 

" _Yes._ "

 

"Hm. Did you notice that your speech impediment goes away when you lie?"

 

Odin lets go of him slowly, hand finding its way over his mouth. "It's the truth," he says, muffled, "I don't love him." But the stutter isn't there, and there's no wetness in his mouth.

 

" ** _Odin._ "**

 

He ignores Pedri - this isn't right, he doesn't love Gil, or anyone, he doesn't have feelings, he is cold, this is  _wrong,_ this is  _sick._

 

Odin turns on the light and finds his pipe resting on his desk. It makes Pedri go away. It makes everything go away. This is  _sick, frozen._

 

(But maybe—)

 

* * *

 

 He awakens to the sound of Gil's laughter again, the noise filling up his bedroom. It is - 

 

_beautiful._

 

(Sick.)

 

* * *

 

 

When he gets dressed, when he brushes his teeth and washes his face and makes himself look "perfect", he walks out into the kitchen again, and—

 

and—

 

Now  _he_ is sick.

 

Olai has Gil up against a kitchen cupboard, mouth on his neck, slowly moving d 

                                                                                                                         o

                                                                                                                         w

                                                                                                                         n

                                                                                                                         w

                                                                                                                         a

                                                                                                                         r

                                                                                                                        d

                                                                                                                        s, collarbone, chest, stomach—

 

"Olai," he says, broken,  _broken,_ "wh—w—wh—what the  _hell_ are you d—doing?"

 

Gil gasps at the sight of him, looks away.  _Sick. S i c k._ Odin feels like he's going to be sick.

 

"Hey, Odin," Olai says, wiping his mouth and moving off of his knees. "How are you this morning?"

 

"I n—need to talk to you.  _Now._ "

 

"As you can see, I'm kinda busy—"

 

"Th—that wasn't a question."

 

"Fine."

 

 

 

 

 

 

He drags Olai to his room, fingers tight around his arm, and locks the door behind them. "St—stay away from him," Odin growls, beastlike, like everything he  _is_ has turned to ruins. "You don't kn—know what you're doing."

 

Olai whistles. "Wow. Someone's jealous."

 

"I'm not—"

 

"Give it  _up,_ Odin," laughs Olai, consumed by fire, a monster made of Odin's every fear. "I knew you had feelings for Gil the moment you started talking about him."

 

"He — he's sensitive, falls in lo—love too easily," Odin explains. "You're j—just going to hurt him. You don't  _care_ about him, you just want to hurt  _me._ "

 

"I'm lonely," he says suddenly. "And I'm  _jealous._ You have all of this, people who love you, and I don't."

 

"That d—doesn't justify anything."

 

Olai smiles. "Let me guess, you  _just_ now realized you love him, right? Now that you pushed him away? Finally stopped living in denial?"

 

"I..."

 

"Well, guess  _what?_ " Olai says. "While you were being a giant baby, Gil came to  _my_ room, and you know what he did? He  _begged_ for it. I fucked him." He laughs again. "I must've been his first time. So hard that he unraveled, stopped being able to speak, until... when he came, Odin, he screamed  _your_ name. He pictured  _you_ inside of him instead of me. He—"

 

"Stop."

 

"He's  _mine—"_

 

" **Stop** ," Odin says,  _stop,_ and then his his hand is burning, knuckles screaming. Oh. Olai's mouth is bleeding, bright red. He won't be able to use it without pain for a very long time.

 

Odin's instincts, like an animal, a ruining thing, consumed him, and now his brother is  _hurt._ Good fucking riddance.

 

Olai wipes the blood away with the sleeve of his jacket, smiles a bloodied smile. "Do you think he's ever going to love you back  _now?_ You broke his heart."

 

"I didn't m—mean to," Odin says, and he feels his entire body shatter into pieces, a bad-luck mirror.

 

"You had your chance," Olai replies. " _You had your chance._ "

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I love Odin. I swear I love Odin.
> 
> Anyway: pls tell me what you think, thanks<3


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